


Consequences

by Crowley_Kitten



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Character Death, Crowley Was an Archangel Before Falling (Good Omens), Grief/Mourning, Hell Trauma, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Suffering, Suicide, Trauma, crowley is kokabiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25036513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Kitten/pseuds/Crowley_Kitten
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are blissfully happy, settling into making a life for themselves after the Apocalypse that never was. but there are consequences.chapters are short. much angst. you'll be okay. I've got you.watch out for major character death, self harm and suicide. but I have you, you're safe. it will be okay.if you want to find out more about Crowleys fall, this is my story on that matterhttps://archiveofourown.org/works/25272088/chapters/61681153#workskin
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	1. When faced with my Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything is perfect. but consequences are lurking just around the corner.

Time passed in a golden, warm haze for Aziraphale and Crowley. They were truly happy. The comfortable domesticity suited them, like an itch they were finally able to scratch. Their silences comfortable. Their embraces confident, knowing every curve and hollow, knowing how Crowley's nipples were so sensitive. Knowing how Aziraphale loved seeing him helpless before him, taking all the pleasure he could give him until he bit back sobs, begging for release.

  
Aziraphale knew the pleasured moans while he ate drove the demon wild, so he made sure to vocalise his enjoyment, a wicked glint in his eye. Crowley knew that if he let his vulnerability show, the Angel would step into a calm, solid space and make him feel safe, and lcherished, and very very aroused.T

The bookshop was home. He still had the plush flat, but it was a place to take time out and tend his plants. Crowley sighed happily as Aziraphale soothed and twisted his well-manicured fingers through his deep red hair, that he had allowed to grow long again. Aziraphale loved playing with his hair, the gentle tugs making the nerve endings of his scalp come alive. His head in the Angel's lap, staring up adoringly, his legs thrown over the arm of the sofa.

Everything was so perfect. Forever. Forever like this. All the thousands of years of restraint. Of being wary. Of biting back confessions of overwhelming, undying love. Of pretending that there was no love to confess. Aziraphale laid aside his book, freeing both hands to smooth and stroke Crowleys face and neck. He smiled fondly.

"Take me to bed, Crowley," He said softly, gentle urgency in his warm voice. Crowley unfolded long limbs, reaching his hand for the Angels, to help him to his feet. As he stood, his arms rose to enfold him, his fingers trailing through his hair again, tugging a little more sharply, and making him gasp and close his eyes with a shudder. One hand trailed slowly down the ridges of his spine, slipping under the waistband of his tight trousers, seeking the crease there. he whimpered. Aziraphale noted a hint of pain in the whimper, pulling back to check-in. "Crowley? are you alright, dear boy" Crowleys breath was coming sharp and quick.

"Something.....something is wrong.... I don't know......I just need a lie down" He gasped harshly, his breath coming slow and shuddering. The very picture of concern, Aziraphale scooped him up and could feel him trembling, as he carried him to the bedroom, carefully undressing him, and tucking him into the plush bed. His eyes were overflowing with worry and fear. Waves of compassion pouring off him. "Hold me Angel" He whispered weakly, clinging on desperately like a drowning man at sea to a piece of driftwood. Sleep or something very like it overtook him. Aziraphale wept silently. Every instinct telling him things had changed beyond hope in that brief moment, and he didn't know the first thing to stop it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crowley slept fitfully, if you could call it sleep. If it had been sleep, maybe he could escape the nightmares. Instead, his mind was forced to live, relive, relive and relive them. The darkness. The pain.

The burning.

The screaming.

The agonising emptiness inside him.

Unworthy.

Unloved.

Unwanted.

Damned.

His heart, his soul, every cell of his corporation and fragment of his ethereal form crying out in pain. The memory was seared into every part of his being, and he knew it would never leave him.

Falling.

Replaying as if it were the first time, over and over again.

With a violent spasm, he was back in the bedroom.

In the bed, soft hands caressing him, gentle tones repeating over and over.

"Crowley, my dear one, my beloved, please WAKE UP! It's a dream, my dear. Just a bad dream, come back to me PLEASE" His breath was coming hard and ragged, his lungs burning. The muscles in his back were twisted hard and tight, pulling his human form further than it should be able to bend and twist. He heard screaming. screaming high and panicked. Screaming that went on and on and on as if the throat that screamed didn't need to breathe.

Aziraphale's face was pale, His eyes.... Oh, don't look at the pain in those eyes, the shaking hand he had clamped over his own mouth to try and keep his own reactions from frightening the Demon. As if anything could make him more afraid. His face was streaked with tears, old and new. Crowley went limp as the nightmare.... the memory, reclaimed him with a cruel malice


	2. if I only could

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale Bargains for Crowleys life

The Demon Crowley was unconscious again, but there was no rest.

Aziraphale sobbed helplessly, his hand locked in Crowleys, his eyes fearfully glued to his face. Trying so so hard to pull the fear and pain from him and replace it with healing. It was like there was a steel door stopping his efforts.

his body never stilled, twitching, sobbing, spasming, crying out in pain. weeping as if there was no hope left. What must his mind be conjuring up to torture the Demon so?

After three days of this, the Angel was exhausted. He had no idea where to turn. Not the Archangels, who had tried to kill them. He pondered whether hell might be more hopeful. He WAS one of theirs after all, even if they had also tried to execute him. Adam? no, he couldn't burden a child with the knowledge of this degree of suffering. Anathema? No. prophecy was the skill in her blood. Every line of thought came back empty.

  
Despairing he let his head fall back, tears down his cheeks. His voice a broken whisper.

"Mother?........please...........please........please......." Until he could speak no more.

In the early hours of the morning, the Angel opened his eyes. There was a strange light in the room. A figure, human shaped, but not human. Not Angel. Not Demon.... The figure was stood over Crowley, bent low, a hand on his forehead, so he stilled. The figure turned to Aziraphale, although there were no features in the glowing pillar of light. Aziraphale was afraid.

"Mother.......is that you.......?"

" **Yes, Child Aziraphale, beloved Angel of the Eastern Gate.** "

The voice, boomed. A voice, if you could call it that, was both inaudible, and shook him to his bones

" **I know you wish to ask the impossible of me, as I am asked the impossible every day. Every moment, a billion broken and mourning souls begging. You are here to beg the Mothers Prayer. Let it be me. Take ME instead. The most heartbreaking prayer, and one that can so rarely be granted. Take me instead. My life for theirs** "

Aziraphale nodded.

" **I do not grant this prayer. you MUST have faith. You and he have defied me for centuries, More than centuries, and turned aside from the paths I set out for you both. my dear Aziraphale, there are CONSEQUENCES. The Demon Crowley WILL die.** "

Aziraphale fell to his knees in supplication, begging with all of his soul, begging, begging, as she had said he would.

"PLEASE! Mother, I cannot live without him. I love him, I love him. I would bleed out for him. I would die for him. I would....... I would FALL for him, just let him live. Take me. not him...... You loved him once?!" It came out like an accusation.

" **I still do. THIS is the path you have both chosen. I cannot tell you where it leads. if you love him as you say...** "

"I do"

" **IF you love him as you say you will not stray from the path I lay before you now. I never stop loving ANY of my creation. The Demon Crowley, as you know him, was so very beloved to me too. He was my Prince of stars. I loved him then, and I love him no less today** "

"Please.... please take me instead"

" **He would ask the same, in your position. you know this to be the truth. Would you condemn him to your pain?** "

Aziraphale fell silent. He knew that would be cruel.

" **You MUST put your trust in me, Aziraphale. Trust that I love you both. These consequences MUST happen. otherwise, everything will become unstable and fall apart. Put your trust in me, Aziraphale. Trust that I love you both. Trust that what will be MUST BE to restore the universe to balance. The Universe you both took the side of. the universe that was YOUR SIDE**."

The strange light went out of the room. The pillar of vaguely human shaped light was gone. His eyes fell to the prone Demon, who was sleeping more peacefully now. despite the feverish sweat on his brow.


	3. don't take that sinner from me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale can't let go.

Aziraphale slept fitfully. The brief peace that the Almighty had blessed them both with would not last, but after days and nights of agonised screaming, he treasured the chance to press their bodies together, his arms around the....dying....demon.....No, it couldn't be true....He wanted to commit every touch to memory. To never let them go. He had never thought their time together would be so short. They were meant to have eternity.

After so long waiting, longing, wantingm their happiness was cruelly ripped away.

He turned over and over in his head, how he could end himself when this was over. He was sure Michael and Gabriel and Sandalphon would be glad to do the honours. Unless they were feeling especially cruel. Unless they decided that leaving him to suffer was a more fitting punishment.

Crowley stirred. a relieved sigh.

"The Dreams...... have they stopped?" He asked weakly. "She was here..... wasn't She......I felt Her....."

"Yes, my love.... She was......." He bit down guiltily on the truth, taking its burden on his own broad shoulders "You are very sick, my love. But She will have you recover.....then......then we can go away together.... Get a cottage in the country, like you said......We can..... We can get married?" The Angel sobbed. Crowley's laugh was harsh and bitter

"You were always a terrible liar. .....I don't know how you got away with what we did"

"We....... we didn't.....Get away with it, I mean. We fooled the Archangels. We fooled all of Hell."

"We didn't fool Her." Crowley said in a low, flat voice.

"No.......No we didn't." Crowley snorted

"Of course we didn't. She will never run out of ways to torture me. I didn't even do anything WRONG, Angel. ....I ......I just ASKED." The soft fingers soothed through his hair again.

"I know.....I know beloved. ......I begged Her, let me die to save you....Let me FALL......Just don't take him from me."

"NO. you mustn't fall! You don't know what it's like......." His mind cast over the dreams. The dreams that were memories. Agony. Fear. Emptiness. He couldn't bear the thought of his Angel suffering what he had suffered.


	4. as the world falls down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything falls apart

The peace was short lived. While it lasted, they lay face to face in the bed. Their fingers interlocked, taking in all they could of each others features. The greatest pain in knowing that the sad haunted eyes of their lover was the last way they would see each other. Faces worn with fear and worry. But Aziraphale couldn't bear to look away, knowing each blink stole moments of Crowleys beauty from him. Six thousand years and it would never be enough. It was too short. Tentative fingers reaching out to the rough, flaky dried on tears on each of their cheeks.

"Crowley...." Aziraphale choked out weakly "You KNOW how much I love you...?... I do, I just need to know that you know it....that you are my everything. Please......please don't leave me"

"I..... I am trying.......but.......I'm so.......so ..........weak" He sighed.

Before long his eyelids drooped to half mast. His breathing was slowing, a harsh rattle punctuating each inhalation. Aziraphales cheeks were wet again. Silent tears pouring from him, like the rains before the great flood. The rains that had destroyed humanity. The rains that would destroy the Principality of the Eastern Gate. Crowleys breath started coming quicker now. Narrow chest heaving, ounctuated with pained whimpers.

"sssssszzzirphale..........." He hissed, his eyes becoming more and more snakelike "LOVE........love you......" Fuck, his voice sounded so full of pain. Of fear. So weak "So.......Ssssso sorry......." Spasms started in his limbs, twisting them into tight cramps "Woooo....wooeerrr .wo......worth it!" As his back twisted violently again, arching his aching body from the bed, clinging to the Angel as the pains racked his body. The eyes met Aziraphales fiercely. Almost defiantly. His long fingers fisting in his soft shirt. There was an agonised choking groan. Every muscle in his body tightened. The moment stretched out forever. Then the spasms loosened one by one, and the Demon went limp in Aziraphales arms, his head rolling back his eyelids drooping. His mouth slack.

A long, slow, shuddering breath left him.

And then he was still.

The beautiful golden honeysweet eyes were no longer focused.

"Crowley......" A small, shaky voice asked hesitantly "Crowley....please?! ..... Please Crowley, my love, my dearest, my beloved!" The Angels fingers cradled the face, shaking him gently. then harder, as choked sobs shook his soft body. "Please don't leave me....please....I'll be alone!" He cupped his chin, tried to lift his face to look at his. The head lolled heavy in his hand. His beautiful serpentine eyes were glassy. No longer warm pools of Sun hot fires, but the cold, empty eyes taxidermists put into stuffed reptiles.

Then.... Then even that shine was gone. The corneas dull and matte.

  
Weeping uncontrollably, Aziraphale closed his eyelids, pressing the length of their bodies together. Pressing tear soaked lips to the slackly open mouth of the limp, lifeless Demon. A blanket of white feathers closed around the two of them like a shroud, until, within the circle of Angelic wings, one warm body, and one cooling heartbreakingly fast, Aziraphale shut out the world and sobbed until tears could come no more. Then, although no more tears came, his body was racked with shuddering jolts until he exhausted himself, and passed out.


	5. never tear us apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale in mourning. Aziraphale no longer has a purpose. no longer has meaning. so he just holds the body, not letting it go from his bed or his arms.

Aziraphale held close to the cold body for .....Oh, he had no idea.... Between waking and sleeping. holding close to the form that became less pliant. More cold, More hard and rigid.

As long as he willed it so, the body would not decompose. And Aziraphale had no desire to move from his side. Some days he would startle at noticing dust settling on his love. Spiders spinning their fine gossamer across that pale, perfect skin.

Aziraphale lay there, and wished for Azreal to come and take him.

Flies came. black, and fat and lazy. Aziraphale recognised them as the flies that laid eggs to hatch to maggots to feed on corpses. Outside the winter slowly gave way to a pale and empty spring. Only this stirred him from his position, the position he had held for several months now. He could smell the food rotting in the kitchen. But the Demons corporation, save the dulling of the eyes, and the rigor mortis, had not tainted. He would not allow his most precious, beautiful being to fade into nothing.

"Prinzzzipality Azzziraphale!" Commanded a harsh voice. He sat weakly, to see the small but no less imposing for it form of the Prince of Hell, in their formal dress uniform. face clean of those boils they wore in the underworld. "what izzz going on? "

"As if YOU CARE. YOU WANTED HIM DEAD!" Aziraphale snarled bitterly.

"Weee agreed to leaving you both alone." That voice was always chilling. as if speaking with multiple mouths. but more sincere than the Archangels had been on that fact. "But here you are, with a dead demon. What...happened?" Aziraphale sobbed brokenly

"She.....she said there were consequences....." Bees face softened. it occurred to Aziraphale that every Demon knew the coldness of Her Rejection.

"Yessszzzzz" Bee shook themself. He had noticed before, that the Prince of hell acted like a human with a speech impediment. Showing frustration when their voice became too much of a swarm. "Sheee hazz always believed in consequenzezzzz....... " what the small bundle of spite and ferocity said next was completely unexpected to the Angel "For what it'ssszzz worth......I'm sorry" The harsh, buzzing voice seemed genuinely remorseful. "So you want uzzz to take him back?" fierce pale, simultaneously beetle dark and cataract blue, eyes between anxious, pale brows. Aziraphales anger surged, raging at the Demon, barely to his chest in height, but fizzing with untold power.

"BEGONE! Prince of Hell! Don't touch HIM, don't touch him don't TAKE him" he sputtered. Beelzebub just nodded respectfully, even in his delirious state, he could read genuine sadness in the face of that infernal being. Their form disintegrated into a mass of flies, scattering until not a faint buzz remained.

Aziraphale sat, another few days and nights in silence. His eyes unable to tear from that face. Heartbroken to see it without that humour and life animating it.

Then he wandered slowly to the kitchen of the flat. He took up a steak knife. pressed it to the inside of his muscular forearm. He sighed as the tip of the blade cut into his skin, moaned softly and dragged it from his inner elbow to the wrist. The wound healed quickly, but he felt a strange release as the blood flowed in a long streak. Once again, he opened himself from elbow to wrist. once again the blood flowed, then the skin knotted closed again. somehow, that took the edge off his suffering. he placed the knife within easy reach.   
He folded again around the cold, stiff body, and fell into an uneasy sleep.


	6. like a prayer

There was a harsh rapping at the door of the bookshop. In autopilot, Aziraphale stumbled downstairs, pushed aside months of post from the doormat, and opened the door. When he looked up, his eyes met a tall, broad, lavender grey-suited figure, violet eyes looking down at him with distaste.

"Jesus Christ, Aziraphale, you look like SHIT!" Gabriel announced haughtily. "more so than usual.... I hear good news. Your adversary has been destroyed? is that so?" Aziraphale grabbed the lapels of that too perfect suit and slammed the taller angel into the wall

"How.....fucking.......DARE.....YOU!!!!" He challenged. No longer caring what happened to him "He's worth ten of YOU!" He saw something strangely guilty in Gabriel's face. "did you know him, BEFORE?!" Gabriel was terrified. The raw emotion from the mere Principality was not to be scoffed at. He knew, despite his softness, despite his curves, he WAS a Ruthless warrior once. "SHE called him her Prince of Stars!!"

"WHAT?!" Gabriel's jaw dropped. "THAT worthless demon was an Archangel?!"

"You knew him?!"

"Kokabiel? yes. ...." His face hardened. "Rebellious SHIT. SHE loved him. but he kept pushing for answers. He deserved to fall. All curiosity. All questions. No FAITH" He spat.

"I need to speak to Her. NOW" Gabriel laughed.

"You think SHE would lower herself to speak to YOU?! "

"SHE has spoken to me before"

"When you lost your sword" the Archangel mocked cruelly.

"Yes. and when I asked her to speak to me. And recently, when he... Crowley.....THE MOTHERFUCKING ARCHANGEL KOKABIEL, PRINCE OF STARS, was ....was........"

"When your fallen, worthless demon FUCKTOY was DYING?" Aziraphale slammed him hard again, and taking the opportunity, the Archangel transported them both to the cold, harsh, sterile halls of Heaven. Aziraphale fell to his knees. His shoulders crumpling around him. His wings were manifested still, and he curled them around his unworthy torso. Michaels heels clicked harshly on the glossy floor.

"What in HEAVEN AND EARTH did you bring this WORM here for?! "

Aziraphale wondered. did they have more Hellfire? he pictured the scene as Crowley had described, his eyes sparkling. Crowley, in HIS form, blowing Hellfire towards the frightened Angels. It twisted a sad, wry smile from him. If they had more, he would gladly walk into it. Part of him wanted to beg them for execution by hellfire. His pain was too great.

His very own flaming sword was pressed to his throat. The light shimmered and changed.

"Mother...." he whispered reverentially. Even the Archangels looked cowed by that pillar of light. But he held firm and didn't drop his eyes. "Cast me out. let me Fall. let me DIE."

" **No. This is not your path. Your faith is weak. your love is strong. take your sword, Aziraphale" Aziraphale took it from the startled Michael. "How much are you willing to suffer for your Demon, Crowley? The fallen Angel Kokabiel, who I loved so dearly? My beloved Prince of Stars?.** " eyes formed in the pillar of light, and Aziraphale met them, unwavering.

"Tell me the answers to his questions. Why is knowing the difference between right and wrong a bad thing? Why, if it must remain untouched, would you place that stupid tree in the middle of the garden? ......why......why would you TAKE HIM FROM ME!?" Aziraphale broke down in sobs. "Why have I been offered more comfort from the Prince of Hell than from YOUR people!"

Aziraphale held the flaming sword up before him, his eyes on the eyes in the column of light. It was so sharp, he barely felt it as he turned it on himself, burying it hilt deep under his own ribcage. A star sputtered out. A star forged in gold and blue and gleaming white, died.

"Crowley!" The word was like a prayer on his lips as he fell forwards, face down on the hard, cold, harsh tiles.


	7. falling down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale fell on his own sword. he experiences the fall for himself.

The floor disintegrated beneath him, just there long enough for him to feel the impact of the hilt on the hard floor as he fell forward, forcing the flaming blade deeper into his insides. He felt the rending of his physical heart and lungs, and the blade emerging just below the seat of his wings. His stormy blue-grey eyes widened, almost with relief, as he realised, the fatal blow was dealt. His suffering was almost over. A small, sad smile curled his lips. glistening tears streaked his cheeks.

"Crowley"

And then the ground, the walls, the ceiling, all fell away around him, and there was a plummeting sensation low in his belly. Cold, fierce terror gripped him as his connection to heaven severed. From that cold chill rose a fearful flame, roaring through every cell of his being. Burning away all that he was and ever had been. Then he was cold. broken. afraid. a sensation that seemed to never end, as he wept on ragged, razor-sharp stones.

His wings were broken and torn. Every sob that tore through him opened wounds against the rocks. He noticed Demons drawing near. watching him coldly.

In time, he heard the soft cries of another. One whose suffering had lasted so long they barely had a voice left. But he knew the voice. HER voice echoed soundlessly in his mind.

"I told you to have Faith."   
He crawled agonisingly over the sharp, jagged rocks, towards that familiar whimper. By the time he got close enough, his body was torn and bleeding. But still, he was so weak now, he let his head drop, silently crying himself to sleep.

Long fingers entwined in his. He awoke with a start. There was Crowley's face. exhausted but animated. No glassiness to the eyes. They crinkled at the corners as he smiled into his.

"Hey, Angel......you came for me....."

"Nothing would stop me.....but.....we......we DIED"

"Yeeah, yeah. and we're in Hell, ooooh, big scary bad Hell, and you fell, but you aren't fallen, and it......It was the price, Aziraphale. It was the CONSEQUENCE. SHE........She SPOKE TO ME. At great length. The consequence wasn't that we should be punished. It's that we had to prove what we were willing to sacrifice for each other. .....We...... we passed the test, Angel. She needed to know that what we wanted was worth what we rejected. Now hold me, my beloved" Aziraphale crumpled into his arms, sobbing. 

When Aziraphale opened his eyes, his limbs were entangled around the cold body in his bed. He was confused and afraid. Gradually, the warmth of his own corporation, No longer torn and eviscerated, warmed the cold cold, stiff flesh beside him. The limbs gradually softened, and the mouth gave a soft soft sigh.

Crowley rolled onto his back, looking up into the Angel's eyes.

"Worth it?" He asked lazily. Aziraphale tried to mentally work through the agony he had suffered the last few months.

"Yes..... worth it" he whispered. His lips closing over Crowleys, their heart and breath quickening together.


	8. Epilogue.

Crowley slept. Weak, but warm, soft and smiling, in the arms of his Angel.

The light in the room shimmered strangely, and Aziraphale stood, widening his stance protectively in front of the Demon. nobody would ever take him away again, he reached into the ethereal, ready to draw his sword and fight anything that emerged from that rift in the physical.

" **SIT, Aziraphale** " The voice echoed through his bones. **"I must speak with you about what happened."** Aziraphale immediately did as he was bid, still keeping his form between the radiant light and the fragile demon. " **Do you understand why I had to test you?** " Aziraphale shook his head, timid. " **I came to the Demon Crowley. I told him what would come to pass, although he would not have recalled when he was conscious. You were right. I loved him once. I loved him every day in existence. He helped me to create the stars. can you imagine? He was a true artist. Beautiful to watch. his Constellations and Galaxies were so .......indescribable in their beauty. And he created them for ME. Oh, if you could have seen him, drawing balls of light into his palms, and releasing them, telling each their story and meaning and place, and what made each different to the last. All but the very last star. His most precious star. Such a vivid imagination. Such a wellspring of curiosity and creativity. He was So beautiful to me.** "

The world seemed to tighten and spin. The voice shimmered and coalesced. Before him was an old, dark-skinned woman her body athletic. Tall and her voice, though more real than before, was the voice of a physical being.

"Aziraphale. I know you are hurt in every fibre of your ethereal being at the loss you suffered. It was never meant to last. I just needed you both to appreciate what I gave you. I love you both. I always have. I made you each for the other"

"But..... you rejected him.... you cast him aside.... and he did no wrong"

"You are absolutely correct. I could never have done it, he was so beloved to me. but I had a vision, and had to let it take place"

"You? a Prophesy?" His voice was harsh. "I thought you dealt them out, not channelled them."

"The vision showed me that I must cast him out. My MOST beloved Archangel. He delighted me with his easy laughter, with his beautiful stars. I loved him TRULY. HE among my Archangels was the one that made me laugh, made me smile. The vision showed me that I was to be asked a question I must not answer, and the questioner must be cast to the pits of hell. Then there he was. My precious Prince of Stars. The light dancing around him. The prophecy demanded he must fall, for the sake of all creation. And so, then I created, for him, YOU. And you and he have danced around each other every day since. I made you so that he would never truly despair. He told you often, you were on your own side. But that's not true. You were on CREATIONS side. YOU AND HE. You stood against Heaven and Hell to save .....all of this. I now know, this was the reason he had to fall. Casting him out hurt me deeply, and him deeper still. But without you, who knows how his soul might have been destroyed. It was all part of the.... ineffable plan. Had I kept him close to me, you would never have been side by side with the Antichrist, ready to fight all comers.

and every day, I see his softness still there. you have saved him more than once, as he has saved you.". The light began to fade.. "Aziraphale and Crowley. You have my blessing. You always have! "


End file.
